


Seeing to Believe

by ladybirdcarina



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I Solemnly Swear that I am Not John Rogers, Post-Episode: s03e16 The San Lorenzo Job, more for myself tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybirdcarina/pseuds/ladybirdcarina
Summary: Eliot has no idea what to do after the entire San Lorenzo fiasco and Nate intends on helping his friend work it out
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60





	Seeing to Believe

**Author's Note:**

> So after watching The San Lorenzo Job AGAIN, there was only one thing that really bothered me about it, as subtle as it was, and that was that Eliot wasn't there to see Moreau locked away.

Purples and reds blanketed the sky as Eliot watched the sun set from the balcony of his hotel room. It had been a very long time since he had last been to San Lorenzo to witness the exquisite sight so he took a moment to once again enjoy it as best he could, given the circumstances.  
  
Peace wasn't easy to come by in Eliot's life yet a San Lorenzo sunset was one of the few things that could calm his mind.

The hitter rested his arms on the balcony rail, chin resting on his forearms, as he finally allowed his troubled mind to run through everything that had happened during the past six months. He had thought that he was finally moving on from his blood-soaked past when Nate, freely escaped from prison, declared war on Damien Moreau. While it was true that they were being blackmailed into it, Eliot couldn't stop the memories from consuming him.

"Quite the sight, isn't it?"

Eliot was unable to stop himself from jumping at the unexpected voice behind him. Turning, he saw Nate standing beside the sliding glass door. Taking a calming breath, Eliot cursed himself for the obvious reaction as he tried to relax, though the attempt was unsuccessful.

"Did you need somethin'?" the hitter asked quietly as he returned his gaze to the horizon.

"Just making the rounds," Nate responded before approaching the balcony. "How are you really doing, Eliot?" the older man inquired after a minute. 

He shrugged a shoulder. "'m fine."

Nate let out a quiet sigh before turning toward his friend. "You know that you're allowed to not be okay, right?" he asked. "This entire six months couldn't have been easy on you, even more so than I initially realized until the airport." Eliot flinched at the reminder of what he had done in order to get Nate to said airport. "Moreau won't be able to cause any more harm, Eliot. I promise."

"You can't promise that, Nate," he said, voice low with tension. "You can't promise me that he'll never see the light of day or anything like that because this is Damien Moreau we're talking about, and I can tell you from experience that he has always had the Devil's luck."

Eliot closed his eyes and again tried to regulate his breathing. He didn't think he would ever be able to think of Moreau without the feeling of claustrophobic panic following closely behind. He _hated_ himself for the fear that he still felt of the man, even after five years of being outside of his sphere of influence.

"Let me show you something," Nate stated and when Eliot looked at him curiously, he smiled and motioned for the hitter to follow.

  
*********

  
"What are we doing here?" Eliot asked as he looked up at the building that held Moreau below. The older man didn't stop, just continued to lead the way inside. Steadying his nerves, he followed him inside.

He didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, too lost in thought, but they were standing outside the elevator that led to The Tombs before he knew it. "Nate..." Eliot mentally cringed at how hesitant he sounded, even to his own ears.

Nate slowly approached Eliot and placed his hands on the hitter's shoulders, his grip firm and steadying, before looking him straight in the eyes. "Eliot, I truly think that this is something that you need to see with your own two eyes before you'll ever be able to move on with your life," he explained. He tightened his grip reassuringly before stepping back and pressing the elevator button.

When the doors opened, Eliot remained in place, seemingly rooted to the floor. He couldn't explain what it was that scared him so much after everything that had happened since reuniting with his former boss, but he just couldn't bring himself to _move_. Swallowing thickly, Eliot took a deep breath and as he carefully released it, he took a small step forward. After another step, and another after that, he found himself in the elevator beside Nate watching as the doors closed and the elevator descended.

It took the entire trip down before Eliot was able to remain calm and once the doors opened, he followed Nate out. 

"Take a look," the mastermind murmured before lightly nudging Eliot, who did as asked.

There, jacket thrown to the side and pacing like a trapped animal, was Damien Moreau. He had never in the near decade of knowing him, seen the man anything less than perfectly collected and neatly presentable. To see him so out of sorts actually calmed something within him and he found it almost easy to approach the cell.

"Nice place you got here, Damien," Eliot said, expression neutral. "Never thought I'd see the day, t' be honest."

Moreau stopped his pacing and looked at Eliot, lips turned up in a snarl. "You think you've won, haven't you, Spencer? This is nothing more than a stop-gap. Before you know it, I'll be out of this place and there will be _no place_ for you to run where I will not find you."

Eyebrow lifting, Eliot just smirked at the desperate statement. "Oh yeah? And how exactly, are you planning to get outta here? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure they fixed up how we got Flores out and you can't buy your way out since you have nothing left." Smirk dropping off his face, Eliot approached the cell, gripping the bars tightly as he leaned in. "No, you're gonna die in this hole and it couldn't happen to a more deserving person." Pushing away, the hitter turned his back on the cell and returned to where Nate was waiting.

"ELIOT!" Moreau bellowed as the elevator doors slowly closed behind him.

Once the elevator started moving though, any strength left in Eliot's body flooded out of him and he staggered, nearly falling if not for Nate's surprisingly quick reflexes. Hitting the emergency stop, he eased the younger man to the floor where he released a loud sigh and dropped his head to his knees. After a few minutes of quiet, Eliot finally looked up, brushing his hair away from his face with surprisingly trembling hands.

"Feels like an adrenaline crash, Jesus..." he chuckled. "Didn't realize I was that tense, either."

"I think that might have had more to do with the decade's worth of trauma that was eased by seeing Moreau in a cage of his own making that you helped put him in," Nate added with a smile before restarting the elevator and offering a hand.

Eliot just shook his head, expression wry. "'m just gonna end up back down here if I get up so gimme 'til we get back t’ the top."

Nate shook his head with a laugh and did just that. Once Eliot was back on his feet and steady, he offered the older man a rare smile. "Thanks, Man. Didn't realize just how messed up I was over this whole shitshow."

"You just needed to see Damien Moreau as a normal man, Eliot. He's mortal and if I'm honest, he'll probably die in that cell before anyone lets him out." Nate then lightly clapped Eliot on the shoulder. "You, on the other hand, can finally grieve and live your life without his shadow looming over you."

Eliot blinked in confusion. "Grieve?"

"You're carrying _years_ worth of guilt on your conscience. I think you need to take a bit of time to work through some of that and move on. You're doing a lot of good and helping a lot of people with the skills you learned while you were with him. Instead of remembering all the bad you _did_ , think about all the good you'll _do_."

The entire trip back to the hotel was spent deep in thought about what Nate had said and by the time he had reached his room, the hitter had to admit that there was some truth to Nate's words. Eliot had spent the last five years running from his past but he had then been forced to confront that past head on, and he had won. Moreau was in prison and Chapman was dead. Even before joining up with his crew-his _family_ -his reputation as a Retrieval Specialist had surpassed his reputation as Moreau's Second in many circles, which was more than he thought he could ever ask for.

Dropping onto the bed, Eliot didn't even bother with the blanket due to the San Lorenzo heat. Flicking the lights off, he stared at the ceiling in thought before closing his eyes and falling into the first peaceful sleep he'd had in _years_.


End file.
